


maybe it will all come back to me

by ShowMeAHero



Series: as the ghost begins to bleed [26]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Childbirth, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Fluff, Fix-It, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Magic, New Year's Eve, New Years, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22011469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: Richie grins at him as he asks, “Why’re you gonna kick Bill’s ass, though?”“Because he chose to have his wedding in upstate New York inJanuary,”Eddie answers, unimpeded by Riley and Richie’s two-man act.“It’s technically still December,” Richie reminds him. Eddie glares at him, so Richie continues, “Which is irrelevant, because Mike told me they’re going to kiss at exactly midnight, so, you’re right, it will be January.”
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris
Series: as the ghost begins to bleed [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1493912
Comments: 43
Kudos: 309





	maybe it will all come back to me

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from ["January Hymn"](https://open.spotify.com/track/1BxfuPKGuaTgP7aM0Bbdwr?si=d3cqnzeHS0-zrS0G6WpvYw) by The Decemberists.

“I’m going to kick Bill’s ass,” Eddie grumbles.

“Daddy,” Riley admonishes, from Richie’s lap on the sofa near the balcony windows. Riley had wanted to look at the mountains, but Eddie wouldn’t let her on the balcony by herself, nor would he let Richie out there in his cast in the heavily-falling snow, so. No winners. _“Ass.”_

“Don’t say _ass,”_ Eddie scolds without looking up from his suitcase.

“You _just_ said it,” Richie reminds him. He sets Riley down on her feet, and she runs over to Eddie where he’s standing over the suitcase on the bed. She tries to jump, at the last second, and trips over her own feet. Eddie’s quick as a flash, without even seeming to look at her first, catching her under her arms before she can hit the ground. His dad-reflexes are sort of hot; Richie grins at him as he asks, “Why’re you gonna kick Bill’s ass, though?”

 _“Daddy,”_ Riley rebukes him impatiently. _“Ass.”_

 _“Riley,”_ Richie says back, in what he considers a _perfect_ impression of her. _“Ass.”_

“Because he chose to have his wedding in upstate New York in _January,”_ Eddie answers, unimpeded by Riley and Richie’s two-man act.

“It’s technically still December,” Richie reminds him. Eddie glares at him, so Richie continues, “Which is irrelevant, because Mike told me they’re going to kiss at exactly midnight, so, you’re right, it will be January.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Eddie says. He digs the girls’ dresses out of the suitcase. Riley, by default of being the only one of the Losers’ children that can walk, is both ring bearer and flower girl for Mike and Bill, a position she has been taking _very_ seriously. “What— Why would they have a wedding at _midnight?_ In _January?_ In _upstate New York?_ What’s _wrong_ with them?”

“Drugs’ll do that to you,” Richie says. He grabs his crutches and hauls himself up so he can flop onto the bed next to Eddie’s suitcase.

“It’s not like they’re doing fucking cocaine, Richie,” Eddie snaps. He starts digging through the suitcase, then frowns, brow furrowed. “Did you remember to bring Riley’s avocado oil, because she—”

“Yes,” Richie cuts him off. He reaches blindly into the suitcase with his good arm and digs the bottle out of a side pocket before holding it up for him, and Eddie takes it. “Do you think Bill’s done cocaine? _I’ve_ done cocaine.”

“What’s cocaine?” Riley asks.

“Grown-up snack,” Richie tells her.

“Can I have some?” Riley asks. Eddie frowns at Richie, which just makes him laugh when he turns back to Riley where she’s perched on Eddie’s hip.

“Maybe when you’re older,” Richie says. Riley looks delighted; Eddie just keeps scowling at him as he slams the suitcase shut with one hand and passes the bottle up to Riley.

“Don’t listen to your dad,” Eddie tells her. “But you know that. What do you want to do for your hair? Uncle Bill said you can do whatever you want.”

Riley thinks about it for a second before saying, “Buns.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Eddie says. “Richie, can you do buns with your cast?”

“I can certainly try,” Richie tells him. He sits up and scoots back against the headboard on the bed, then holds his hands out, wriggling his fingers. “Get over here, short stack.”

Eddie deposits Riley in Richie’s lap with her hair kit. Riley hands up her avocado oil.

“You want to look like Leia?” Richie asks, and Riley nods vigorously, grinning so wide her glasses slip down her nose. Richie slides them back up with his fingertip before unzipping her hair kit and starting on her hair.

“What should I do for Audrey?” Eddie asks, lifting Audrey up out of her carrier. She frowns up at him, then turns to Richie, scowling.

“She looks pissed,” Richie comments. “I say put a couple clips in and call it a day.”

“Done.” Eddie sets Audrey down on the bed next to Richie. After a beat, he comes back, lifting her up again and laying one of the blankets they brought from home down over the hotel covers, _then_ he sets her back down. “And Nora?”

“I’ll do a braid for her,” Richie says, muffled around the comb in his mouth. Riley taps a beat absently against his thighs as he works.

“She doesn’t have enough hair for a braid.”

“Semantics,” Richie tells him. He finishes one of Riley’s buns, then turns her around to work on the other side. “Feeling well-rested, kiddo?”

“Yup!” Riley exclaims. Audrey sticks the corner of the blanket in her mouth and gnaws on it while Eddie sets Nora down beside her on the blanket.

“Knock, knock,” Bev shouts through the door of their suite. Eddie jogs away from them while Richie finishes Riley’s other bun and sets her aside on the bed. He picks up Nora to start doing a crown braid around her head.

“Please dress them,” Richie says, as soon as Bev’s in view.

“Hi, Beverly,” Bev says. “How’re you feeling, Beverly? I’m fine, Richie, thanks, how are—”

"Alright, yes, hello, get in here, come hug me,” Richie tells her. She doesn’t even lean over to hug him, since her baby’s due literally any day now, but he appreciates the sentiment. “Happy New Year’s and all that, how are you? Are you really fine?”

“I’m a little uncomfortable but I’m also going to give birth to an adult if this keeps going,” Bev jokes. She sits down beside him on the mattress and holds her hands out for the girls’ dresses. “Gimme.”

“Can you believe fucking _Bill_ is getting married?” Richie demands, as the three of them work together to get the girls ready. The snow’s picked up outside, wind whipping around as the shit heaps up in mounds in the darkness. “And he’s not marrying _me?”_

“Fuck you, dirtbag,” Eddie snaps.

“I just mean, I had the _biggest_ crush on Bill in first grade,” Richie tells him. “And again after he kissed me that one time—”

“Who _didn’t_ have a crush on Bill?” Bev sighs. She slips Riley’s arms through the sleeves of her dress and somehow simultaneously fluffs up the skirt. Richie tries to watch her to see how she does it, but he gets distracted by Nora again pretty quickly.

 _“I_ didn’t,” Eddie says.

“Yes, you did,” Richie says, at the same time Bev scoffs, setting Riley on the ground and swapping out for Audrey.

"You _so_ did,” Bev says. “Even _I_ saw that.”

“Remember when you’d read all his stories before he submitted them to magazines and edit them for him?” Richie recalls, grinning like an idiot when Eddie smacks him on the shoulder. “So you _do—”_

“He needed help!” Eddie exclaims, even as his cheeks go red.

“Oh, look at him,” Richie says. He shakes his head and sighs. “I can read you like a book, Eddie Kaspbrak—"

“Go fuck yourself,” Eddie interrupts heatedly.

“—and you had a crush on him just like the rest of us,” Richie tells him.

“Well, _you_ had a crush on Mike, too,” Eddie shoots back. Richie laughs, finishing Nora’s braid and pinning the ends in place. Her curls still spill out all around the braid, but at least they stay out of her eyes and she looks slightly fancier than normal. 

“I had a crush on _all_ of you at one point,” Richie says. He looks mournfully at Bev and adds, “Except you, baby, I’m _sorry.”_

“No offense taken,” Bev allows magnanimously. He kisses her on the hand grandly, and she grins widely. A strong wind hits the broad side of the hotel in the same beat, slamming open the door to the balcony and making Riley scream in shock. Eddie runs out after her before anyone else can move, scooping her up again and slamming the door shut. Some snow blew in with the gust, slowly melting into the hotel carpet.

“Fuck,” Eddie comments. “It’s getting bad out there.”

 _“Daddy,”_ Riley scolds.

“I’m guessing they’re not gonna be able to get married outside like they wanted,” Richie comments. He accepts Audrey from Bev when she’s done dressing her and passes Nora over in exchange. “Does this place have a ballroom or something? Or, like, a classy basement? Even an unclassy basement would be fine, if it’s finished and his dad lets me have a sip of whiskey—”

“Did _you_ get enough sleep?” Eddie interrupts him to ask. Richie flashes him a smile as Audrey buries her face in his chest, curling up in his lap. He kisses the top of her head.

“Remains to be seen,” Richie answers.

“There’s a hall downstairs,” Bev says.

“The hotel website said they have a hall, a ballroom, a greenhouse, and a tavern that can be used as interior venues,” Eddie tells them. Richie’s not surprised that Eddie’s already been scoping out backup plans, since he tends to do it without even a second thought. “They’re all accessible from the lobby, so if they move it—”

“Which they better,” Bev comments, shifting to sit back against the headboard beside Richie, sitting Nora back down in Richie’s lap. She drops her head on Richie’s shoulder and yawns. “I’m so fucking uncomfortable. I don’t want to go outside, I just want to go to bed.”

“I was _just_ saying a midnight wedding is insane,” Eddie exclaims. “It’s insane! Who does this? We are _forty—”_

“Oh, we’re forty now?” Richie asks. Eddie waves him off, peering out the windows over the balcony again.

“It’s romantic,” Bev says. “I guess.”

 _“I guess,”_ Eddie echoes.

“It’s kinda sweet,” Richie adds. “New beginnings and all that.”

The lights flicker in their room, then blaze brightly again. Eddie looks around nervously, then turns back to Richie.

“Oh, lovely,” Richie says lightly, just so Eddie will stop looking so nervous. “A little mood lighting. A little night music, send in the clowns—”

“Stop riffing,” Eddie tells him. “What if the power goes out?”

Audrey slips out of Richie’s grip and goes to sit on Bev’s legs, fiddling with the hem of her dress. Richie nudges his good leg up against her to keep her from tipping over onto the mattress.

“Then the backup generators go on,” Richie says. “And if those go out, then we use candles and the fireplace. And if the building explodes, well, then, Eddie, looks like I’m gonna have to necromance my way out of a real pickle for us—”

 _“Necromance_ can’t be a word,” Bev says.

“You’d be surprised,” Richie replies, as the lights dim and brighten again. Eddie darts back into the bedroom part of their suite and grabs his phone, nervously tapping into it. “Who’re you texting?”

“Group chat,” Eddie says. “I want to know what the plan is.”

Bev’s and Richie’s phones both buzz as Eddie sends his message, then all three of their phones buzz again with a reply.

“Mike says we’re moving into the hall,” Eddie tells them. “It’s just downstairs, and they’ve got big windows so we can still see outside.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Richie says. He reaches up with one hand to stroke Bev’s hair. She turns her face into his shoulder. “How you doing?”

“Eh,” Bev replies.

“I’d be _eh,_ too,” Richie says. Audrey jerks up from Bev’s legs, then, then climbs over her thigh to go back to Richie, holding up her palms. Richie frowns, taking one of her hands and squinting down at it. “What the fuck did you touch?”

Audrey points backwards. Richie glances at Bev at the same time Bev says, “Fuck, call Ben—”

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me,” Eddie blurts out, just as the lights dim and then, finally, completely go out. They’re left in total darkness, which makes Audrey burst into tears and Eddie swear, but then there’s a hum and a dull orange light comes on from the backup lights along the crease between the wall and the ceiling.

“Get Ben,” Richie tells Eddie. “You’ll be faster than me.”

“Which is your room?” Eddie asks, grabbing his hotel key.

“I’m in 304, take my key—” Bev says, and Eddie snatches it out of her hand before taking off out their front door and down the hall, thudding footsteps disappearing faintly down the hall carpet as he sprints. Bev looks to Richie, and he just grins at her. She doesn’t smile back. “Rich, I’m scared.”

“Hey, don’t be scared,” Richie tells him. “Don’t be scared, Bev, you’re pretty much the strongest person I know. You’ve done some badass shit, this is _nothing.”_

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, you dick,” Bev says, with tears in her eyes and a small smile. Richie pulls her in with his good hand at the back of her head and kisses her square in the center of her forehead.

“I do, too,” Richie tells her. “I gave birth to Nora, remember?”

“That doesn’t count,” Bev insists. She frowns, brow furrowing, then twists up over herself, cussing, “Motherfucker, fucking _shit,_ that hurts—”

“What’s wrong?” Ben demands, skidding in through Richie and Eddie’s half-open suite door. “What is it? Eddie said—”

“Eddie’s right,” Bev tells him, holding out her hands. “Come over here, help me up.”

“Where are you going?” Eddie asks. He’s doing his anxious hovering, Richie can recognize it, but all three girls have now been placed on top of him; between them and his casts, he can’t get up off the bed. Bev looks to Richie, clutching his hand.

“We have to go back to our room—” Bev starts to say, then says, “Shit—”

“She’s having _your_ baby, get over here,” Richie says to Ben, when he doesn’t move. He runs over to her side, takes her other hand and kisses the top of her head.

“I’ll call 9-1-1,” Eddie says, already holding the phone to his ear. Richie can hear him talking a mile a minute once the dispatcher picks up, and it’s only then that Richie actually processes what’s going on, actually. Bev is one of his best friends, and she’s going to have a baby, potentially right here in his hotel bed; he knows it’s possible, he remembers Seth Meyers’ story about his wife having her baby in minutes, and the possibility briefly terrifies him. They’re also in the middle of nowhere in upstate New York, on New Year’s Eve, in the middle of a snowstorm, close to ten o’clock at night, for _Bill and Mike’s wedding, fuck—_

“I’m calling Mike,” Richie says, because he seems like the better choice of the two to call, response-level-wise. Mike answers on the third ring.

“Rich, what’s wrong?” Mike asks. Richie frowns at Bev, who laughs.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” Richie asks.

“Why the hell else would you be calling me right now, bud?” Mike shoots right back in answer. Richie makes a sort of _meh_ motion before remembering he’s on a phone call, not a video call. “What’d you do? Push Eddie out a window? Get pushed by Eddie out a window?”

“One of these days, the answer will be yes,” Richie warned him. Bev smacked him on the shoulder. “No, I just wanted to let you know that Bev’s going into labor in my hotel room.”

Mike’s silent for a moment. Then he says, “You’re kidding.”

“Tragically not,” Richie responds. “Ben can confirm.”

“Yes I can!” Ben shouts. Bev flinches, then smacks his shoulder, too. He looks appropriately abashed and says, “Sorry, hon.”

“They said they’ll get here in an hour depending on the roads and traffic,” Eddie spits, looking more red-faced and angry than Richie’s seen in a while. “Bev, how far apart—”

“They’re not,” Ben tells him. He looks ashen, and he looks to Richie, panicked.

"Bev’s having her baby now,” Richie says into the phone.

“Holy fuck,” Mike says. “Is Bill with you?”

“No, just Ben, Bev, and Eds,” Richie tells him.

“I’ll get Bill and Stan,” Mike tells him. “You’re in which room?”

“316,” Richie says. Mike hangs up at the same time that Eddie drops Richie’s **_Richcraft_ **duffel bag on his good leg.

“Start looking for something useful,” Eddie orders him before returning to his phone call. Bev looks to him, panicked, and Richie feels the terrified self inside take a back seat in the face of Bev needing him. Ben’s looking at him, too, with something akin to— hope, maybe, or optimism, that Richie will be able to help. Richie tries not to think about how this is Bev’s life as he flips through the books he brought with him until one of them gives him a warmer, honeyed energy, and that’s the one he digs out. It’s one of the fertility books he’d gotten from his and Patty’s side projects.

“Oh, perfect,” Ben sighs. “There, see, Richie’s got this.”

“Richie is _not a doctor,”_ Eddie insists.

“Good thing we got you, then, Dr. K,” Richie says. Eddie snaps his fingers and goes to his suitcase, pulling his first aid kit from the zippered part on top. Richie flips through his book and grins in Bev’s direction, adding, “Don’t worry, babe. Eds and I helped a dog have puppies on Mike’s farm once, we got this.”

“That’s true,” Eddie agrees. Bev glares at him, too, so he goes back to his phone call, pacing over to the window and looking outside again.

There’s a knock at the door, and Eddie jogs to grab it. Bill shoots in first, like a bat outta hell, and rockets to Bev’s side.

“I’m so sorry,” Bev insists. A tear slips down her face, and Richie swipes it away.

“Hey, no, d-d-don’t worry,” Bill tells her. “It’s okay, w-we know it’s n-n-n-not—”

“Fuck,” Bev says, and grabs Bill’s hand out of the air. He looks nervously up to Richie.

“She’ll be okay,” Richie tells him. He hands his book over to Stan and turns to Bev. “You’re gonna be just fine, Bev, alright? You got me, Dr. K, and lovely Mr. Hanscom here. You’ll be fine.”

Eddie checks his watch, then looks over at them and nervously says, “They’re trying to get out here but the weather’s shit and the roads aren’t clear, what do we—”

“Have them talk us through it, put them on speaker,” Ben says. Eddie does as he’s told and drops the phone on the nightstand. Georgie and Patty take the kids to Stan and Patty’s room and keep them there while Richie cleanses the room and cuts open his palm. He looks apologetically to Bev.

“Do you mind taking the dress off?” Richie asks. “Or at least lifting it or— Oh, yup, alright, just taking it off is good, too.”

“I don’t want to wear anything,” Bev tells him. Ben helps her sit up and take all her clothes off, and Eddie lines the bed under her with towels. He flits back around with the strongest painkillers in his first aid kit; Bev grabs them gratefully as Richie places his open, bleeding palm against Bev’s stomach.

“You’re gonna be just fine,” Richie repeats again. He’s never actually been at a human birth, since Nora kind of— exploded out of nowhere, and he missed Ezra’s birth by being on the fucking opposite coast, so this is new for him, too. Magic, though— Magic he gets, and that he can do, and luckily there’s enough of them that, combined, they can do this.

He’s also not sure how fast these things are supposed to go, having never actually been at one of these, but Stan assures him it’s normal when he pats Bev’s face with a cool washcloth from the bathroom.

“Patty had Ezra pretty quick after her water broke,” Stan says. He scoops Bev’s hair up off her neck and ties it up in a bun for her. “It seems like you’re going even quicker, Bev, I have—”

“Eds,” Ben says, a little too loud and frantic to be normal. “Get over here, Eddie.”

Eddie leaves Richie’s side to go back to Ben and, when he looks down at Bev, he blanches. He looks up at Richie and says, “Richie, it’s happening—”

“What do you mean?” Bill asks, as Mike opens the windows a crack to get fresh air circulating. The both of them are already in their suits, and Stan’s half-dressed, in his suit pants and undershirt. Bill turns to Mike and, after a beat, smiles. “You look really nice.”

Mike grins, blushing. “You, too. Sorry we—”

“Okay, I love love, but we have to focus,” Eddie interrupts them. “There is a _person_ coming _out of Beverly—”_

“Oh, holy shit, there is,” Stan says, looking over Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie listens to the dispatcher’s instructions while Richie repeats the spell from his book. Ben pushes Bev up so he can position himself behind her, propping her up and holding her tight. She grips his arms, white-knuckled, face turned into his cheek. He strokes her hair back and kisses her temple.

“I know you can do this,” Ben tells her. He keeps talking when she sobs, says, “Bev, you can do this, you’re okay, you can do this—”

“Ben,” she gasps, then pulls her own knees up with her hands. Eddie shrieks, but he ducks down anyways, uses the website Stan’s pulled up on his phone and the instructions from the dispatcher and the paramedics over the phone. Richie just keeps reciting the words out of the book. He and Eddie make eye contact, just for a moment, and the air is charged before Stan’s hand is on Bev’s shoulder and Bill’s holding one leg for her while Mike wipes off her face. It’s not much longer before Eddie’s holding a baby in his hands and looking completely astonished.

Richie stops reciting the spell as the baby starts to scream. He flips through the book frantically for the blessing spell for birth and, once he finds it, says, “Give the kid to Bev.”

Eddie quickly lifts the baby up and puts them on Bev’s chest, and she clutches them close, looking to Richie. Stan holds the phone up to Eddie’s ear, since his hands are covered in blood; Bill tosses a towel at him. Richie reaches for Ben’s palm, cuts it open and puts it over Bev’s hand and the baby’s face. He does his blessing, eyes closed, and feels a sunshine-warmth flood through him. It spreads from his hands through the baby, and Bev, and Ben; Ben sobs once, too, pressing his head into the back of Bev’s.

“You’re okay,” Stan tells them. His hand lands on Richie’s back, rubbing at it as Richie finishes the ritual and breathes. The baby wriggles under Richie’s hand, still screaming, though they’re slowly calming down. Bev sucks in a shuddering breath.

The last of Richie’s energy flows out of him into them, and he exhales carefully. When he lifts his hand, the baby stops crying. Bev’s calmed down, too, though there are still tears streaming down her face in the new quiet. Ben strokes her sweaty hair back from her face and kisses her cheek hard.

“She’s so beautiful, Bev,” Ben whispers. Richie wipes at his face with the fingers on his casted arm, trying not to smear blood everywhere. Ben looks up at him while Bev’s talking softly to their baby and says, “Richie, I—”

“I know,” Richie tells him. Bev looks up at them all; her eyes land on Eddie, and she smiles, still watery and still crying, but warm and softened and exhausted.

“Thank you,” she says quietly. Her throat is raw when she speaks; Stan jogs off to get her water while Mike takes out his emergency knife and passes it over to Ben, who looks confused before Richie motions to the cord.

“Go ahead, man,” Richie says. Bev laughs wetly as Ben struggles to cut through the cord properly but, once he gets it, she starts crying all over again.

“I ruined your wedding,” Bev says tearfully. Bill kisses her on the top of her head.

“You’ve made it w-w-way more exciting,” Bill assures her. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Dr. K’s got it,” Richie assures them. Eddie flips them off where he’s trying to clean up blood and guts off the bed. “Fuck, what’s it been, half an hour? How the fuck’d you do that, Marsh?”

“Just talented,” she says. He kisses her on the cheek.

“Which name do you want to use?” Ben asks. Bev hums tiredly, leaning back against Ben and looking over their baby in her arms. Richie’s starting to feel out of place on the bed, but he can’t get up on his own, his crutches knocked over at some point in the chaos and now out of his reach on the floor.

“Are you going to name her after your mom?” Stan asks.

“Elfrida?” Bev asks incredulously. “I loved my mom, but _no.”_ She smiles, stroking her fingertip over her daughter’s cheek, and says, “I don’t know. Wh— Actually, Ben, wait, remember January?”

Ben smiles, then says, “Yeah, actually.”

“What, the month of January?” Richie asks. “It’s in, like, an hour and a half—”

“No, that was one of the names we liked,” Ben tells him.

“But sh-sh-she was born in December,” Bill points out. “It’s not midnight.”

“Fuck, that’s funny,” Richie groans. “Why didn’t _I_ think of a funny name for our kids? Eds, let me have another baby—”

“Fuck off,” Eddie spits at him with a grin on his face. It’s only then that an ambulance pulls up outside the hospital, red lights flickering through their balcony windows in the darkened hotel rooms.

“We can wait for you,” Mike tells Bev. She shakes her head.

“Do it at midnight like you wanted,” Bev assures her. “I’ll make Ben FaceTime us in and then we’ll have another party soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Bill says. He kisses her cheek, then squeezes her hand, smiling. “I’m so proud of you.”

Bev smiles, then lets him hug her again, her arms still occupied. When the paramedics come, they’re confused, and it’s only then that Eddie has his panic attack, melting down and needing to sit against Richie’s chest to just breathe while Bev and Ben leave. Richie lets a paramedic bandage his hand while he strokes Eddie’s hair to calm him down.

In spite of everything, they all go down, cleaned up and fully dressed, to the hall off the lobby, the new wedding venue. Mike’s and Bill’s entire families are there, and all of their friends and coworkers and anyone they wanted to invite, because Mike’s always wanted a huge wedding and Bill’s stupid in love with him, which Bill has expressed to Richie pretty much every time they’ve spoken since being reunited back in 2016.

Riley’s nearly spilling out of Patty’s arms once Richie lays eyes on her, but Eddie’s the one who has to take her, since Richie’s still on his crutches. He’s got a chair up on the altar, so he can sit down behind Bill as one of his groomsmen, along with Stan and Georgie, his best man; Mike has Eddie, and he was supposed to have Ben and Richie, but now Ben’s gone and Bev, too, so Richie’s been shuffled and their officiant is being filled in on everything in whispered tones with Stan. It's then that the lights all finally come back on, the hotel humming with electricity once again. A collective sigh of relief seems to ripple around the room; Richie can't help but smile.

“How’s Bev?” Georgie asks quietly in the silence.

“She’s great,” Eddie tells him. Georgie’s holding Audrey in his one arm, but she seems happy enough with him, so neither of them moves to take her. When Richie looks around the room, he sees Arlene Hanscom with Nora; when they make eye contact, she lifts Nora and waves her hand like she’s saying hello to Richie from across the tremendous hall. “Baby’s great, they’re off in the storm to go to a hospital, they’re gonna call us when they get there.”

“And I sent ‘em with a little good-luck token,” Richie says. He winks at Georgie, who just stares back at him. “A blessed coin for protection.”

“You’re a witch,” Georgie states with a small smile. Richie just grins as the music kicks up, and he has to hobble his way up to take his seat along the altar. They decide to both just start inside, and they don’t do the aisle, but Riley’s still instructed to dump flower petals everywhere and hold onto the rings while Mike and Bill do their vows.

They’ve landed on doing a shorter ceremony, especially considering the time of night and how quickly midnight is approaching, and, after a coin flip that makes Stan snort with laughter, Mike goes first.

“Bill, I’ve thought about you every single day since I first met you,” Mike says. He’s holding Bill’s hands tight in his, and, after a moment, he brings them up to his mouth and kisses the back of both of them. “It took so long to get you back and I’m so glad I did. You make every day I had to spend in Derry worth it. You mean everything to me. My life’s finally complete with you, you know, I just— I love you so much. I didn’t know I could love anyone like I love you, and your strawberry-milk face and your old man grey hairs and the way you mumble in your sleep. You’re everything to me. Thank you for marrying me, and I promise to make sure you’re happy with that choice every day.”

Bill’s crying as soon as Mike says _“Bill,”_ but he makes it to the end before he actually lets out a noise, at which point they kiss, and their officiant clears her throat. When they separate, Bill wipes at his eyes and laughs.

“You know I should never do the endings,” Bill comments. Mike flicks him on the shoulder. “I mean, I know I’m not good at endings— Everyone here has told me this multiple times— But, while I’m not good at writing them, turns out I’m pretty good at living them, because I’ve finally found mine.” Bill has to exhale, then inhale, slowly, steadying himself. Richie’s crying steadily, Riley sitting in his lap and trying to crane her neck to watch the vows around Georgie; Richie pulls her in and buries his face in the crown of her head.

"Bill,” Mike says, voice low.

“I mean it,” Bill tells him. “I write stories and romances and all these fantastical things, and I can never come up with a good ending. And then I go back to Derry, and I see you again, and all of a sudden I know what a good ending is supposed to be.” Bill reaches up, cups Mike’s face in one hand, and says, “A good ending is any ending where you’re happy. A good ending is where we’re together until we’re old, _old_ men, and we’ll never have to be separated again. I know what good endings are now because you’re giving me one, Mikey, and I don’t know how I could possibly want anything else. I don’t even think I chose you— I don’t think I ever had a chance.”

Mike’s crying, too, and he kisses Bill’s cheek before he says, “Bull fucking _shit,_ Denbrough, that’s not fair.”

“I love you,” Bill says. He hasn't stuttered once. “Thank _you_ for marrying _me.”_

Their officiant asks them to exchange rings, and Riley hops up to pass the rings off. She’s nothing if not a showman, too, so she bows to the watching crowd before running back to Richie’s lap, scrambling up his good leg to get there. When they both tell each other that they do promise to love each other forever, Richie makes eye contact with Eddie. He can see, in his peripheral vision, Stan turning to Patty in the crowd and mouthing something to her. It's then that the countdown to the New Year starts, with ten seconds to midnight; the officiant takes the time to pronounce Mike and Bill married, and they kiss just at midnight, right on the dot, as Riley screams, _"Happy New Year!"_ in her messy toddler-speak.

When Richie looks out at the crowd, he sees Patty first, in the front row, where she's holding up her iPad with Bev and Ben on it. Bev's still holding their new baby and, when Richie looks at them, they're kissing and crying, too. Richie's briefly sad that Eddie's on the opposite side from him, but Riley looks up at him with such open excitement and joy that he just smacks a kiss on her cheek to make her squeal.

"Daddy," she whispers. He tickles her slightly.

"You can't talk during the ceremony," Richie whispers back. The organs starts up halfway through his valuable life lesson, swelling loudly over the speakers of the hall, and then they have to get off the altar on the stage so it can be dismantled and turned back into the hall's dance floor, as it turns out. The seating gets shifted around tables instead of in rows, and the lighting changes from soft, warm fire-yellows to brilliant purples and blues, casting up in long columns towards the high ceilings. One entire wall faces the mountains, showing them a dark, snowy scene outside. Richie's pretty fucking impressed, as far as venues go at midnight after the absolute madness of the last few hours.

It feels like a full-circle moment, when Richie sits at their table with Nora dozing off in his arms. Eddie's over getting food with Audrey and Riley when the lights go down for Bill and Mike's first dance, the soft instrumental strains of Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young filtering through the speakers.

"This is 'Our House,'" Richie whispers to Nora. Bill's got his head on Mike's shoulder; they're more hugging and shifting now and then than actually dancing, but it's so tender that Richie feels like he's intruding just by watching them. "Graham Nash wrote this while he was still living with Joni Mitchell. You know her, she wrote 'Both Sides, Now.' You liked that song when you heard it in _Love Actually."_

"What're you two talking about?" Eddie asks, taking the seat beside Richie with a plate full of food and Audrey on his hip. Riley sets her own plate down on Richie's other side before scrambling up into the chair there.

"Cinema," Richie answers. Eddie holds a meatball out to him on the end of his fork, and he bites the whole thing off at once. "It's weird, right?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full, you Neanderthal, you're setting a bad example," Eddie says. He gives Audrey a mouthful of pasta carefully, trying not to let any fall on her dress. "What's weird?"

"Bill and Mike getting married," Richie says. "Ben and Bev having a kid. We're all so old."

"And we're _late_ to the marriage-and-kids game," Eddie reminds him.

"I just couldn't have pictured this thirty years ago, y'know?" Richie asks. Eddie scoots his chair closer and turns Richie's face in towards his so he can kiss him. It's almost chaste, close-mouthed and slow, and probably _would_ be chaste if it wasn't Eddie doing the kissing, because Eddie always kisses Richie like he wants to devour him. It's a hard, intense press, a tip of his head and a shot of electricity down Richie's spine.

"Which part?" Eddie asks softly.

"All of it," Richie says. He turns more fully towards Eddie, focusing as much of his attention as he can on this, because it feels important. His hand is throbbing under the bandage wrapped around his palm, but his and Eddie's auras are all warm, a blend of sunrise yellows and pinks, creamy all around them, soaking into the girls, too. It's Richie's favorite feeling with his family; it's their shared contentment, a sense of belonging and happiness to be with the people who know and love them best. Richie never could've imagined this for himself.

"What's going on in there?" Eddie asks. Mike and Bill's first dance is still going, but other couples have been invited out, now. Patty and Stan are out there, with Ezra between them; Arlene is dancing with Bill's father, from what Richie can tell, and Georgie's dancing with his mother, smiling down at something she's saying. It's nice. It's unimaginable.

"Imagine," Richie says, "telling yourself when you were— I don't know. Six, or thirteen, or twenty-eight— Any age. Imagine telling yourself that we'd be married with kids, that— that Bev and _Ben_ would get married, and now they have a kid and Stan got married and _he_ has a kid and now _Big Bill Denbrough_ married Mike. Mike _Hanlon."_ Richie exhales, then says, "Eds, I'm—"

When Richie can't find the words, Eddie just digs his fingers into Richie's scalp, scratches through his hair to help ground him. He's got a warm smile on when Richie looks back up at him, all handsome and strong in the sharp lines of his tuxedo.

"I think I'm fucking happy," Richie manages. Eddie looks confused, for a moment, as he processes this; then, he looks so impossibly fond that Richie desperately tries to commit the expression to memory before it's gone. "Can you believe it?"

"I can," Eddie tells him. "I think I might be, too."

"What a pair of dickheads," Richie comments.

 _"Daddy,"_ Riley scolds, around a mouthful of dinner roll. When Richie looks back down at her, she rolls her eyes in such a picture-perfect impression of Eddie that Richie's head snaps around immediately and he points right at his husband.

"Look what you _did,"_ Richie exclaims, while Eddie laughs at his expression on Riley's face. "She's so dramatic! Wh—"

"The eye roll was me, but the drama's all you," Eddie interrupts him.

"Excuse me," Stan interrupts them. Riley tips her head back, grinning widely around her mouthful of bread.

"What's up, buttercup?" Richie asks. Stan motions towards the back corner of the hall, where Patty's slipping out with Ezra.

"They're heading off to bed," Stan says. He looks down to Riley, then holds out his hand to her, palm-up. "I was hoping I could ask my goddaughter to dance with me."

Riley looks excitedly back to Richie and Eddie, so Richie says, "Yeah, of course, have fun."

Riley shrieks and holds her arms up to Stan, who scoops her up in her huge dress and carries her out to the dance floor. Richie watches him do a pseudo-tango with her on his hip, the two of them dissolving into laughter as they go. He sighs, smiling.

"Do you wanna dance?" Eddie asks. Richie glances back at him, then taps his spoon on his leg cast.

"No can do, babe, sorry," Richie says. He doesn't really want to try and go out there with crutches, but Eddie's looking down at his plate, cheeks red, and Richie finds he actually does very much want to dance with him.

"I could hold you up," Eddie offers. He glances up at Richie, who can only grin in response to Eddie Kaspbrak saying something like that to him.

"Sweep me off my feet, Eds," Richie says, just to make Eddie smile; he's just as thrilled as he always is when it works, when Eddie's dimples show up and the corners of his eyes crinkle and his whole face lights up. Richie sometimes feels like he was put on this Earth exclusively to make Eddie Kaspbrak smile.

Eddie ropes Ben's cousins at the next table into watching Nora and Audrey while Richie struggles to his feet. Eddie comes to him once the girls' seats have been switched, pulling Richie's good arm across his shoulders and helping him, one small step at a time, to the dance floor. When they get there, a new slow song kicks up, and Eddie pulls Richie's left arm up and around his neck so Richie can lean heavily on him, taking the weight off his broken leg.

"This'll be us in a few months," Richie says, naming the main source of joy for him and the main source of planning-based stress for Eddie: their actual wedding, with a proper ceremony and reception and all that nonsense, scheduled for that summer after Audrey's first birthday.

"I can't wait," Eddie says. It's somewhat unexpected, since he usually just jokingly says, _"Don't remind me, we don't have enough time left to get everything done,"_ and then talks about everything they still have left to do. Richie loves it, because he's discussing _his wedding to Eddie Kaspbrak._ A literal dream come fucking true.

"Did you know," Richie says, chest filled with helium-light emotion, "this is considered Cyndi Lauper's signature song?"

"Is it?" Eddie asks. He tips his chin up, and Richie meets him in a soft kiss.

"Yup," he murmurs, there against Eddie's smiling mouth. "It was her first number one hit." He kisses Eddie again, then asks, "Wanna know something else about it?"

"Sure," Eddie says. He shuffles them in a half-dance, half-sway. Richie wouldn't even mind if they just hugged like Bill and Mike had been. He just likes being held by Eddie.

"She wrote this song based on my feelings for you," Richie says.

"No," Eddie says, playing along. "When'd you have the time to tell her?"

"Eds, the year was 1983, and I was madly in love with my favorite little sandbox friend," Richie says, and Eddie shoves lightly at him before reeling him back in. Richie basks in the warmth, the glow, the auras and the lights and the music, the contentment and joy of the moment. He's exhausted, but he's so fucking happy, he'd stay up for years to make this night last.

"What were you, six?" Eddie asks.

"Thereabouts," Richie replies. "Listen, see— 'If you're lost, you can look and you will find me time after time,' that's me to you— 'If you fall, I will catch you, I'll be waiting—'"

"You're such a fucking nerd," Eddie admonishes him softly, smiling up at him. Richie's just got to kiss him again, even as his broken leg starts to ache and the song starts to wrap up. He groans when Eddie deepens the kiss a little, opening his mouth and shifting closer to Richie, one hand on his chest.

When the song changes, transitioning into a fast Bowie number, Eddie draws back. He can tell, apparently, just by looking at Richie's face, that one dance has even been too much, and he's helping him back to the table without even being asked. Stan and Riley are still out together, and Nora's mostly asleep, so Eddie takes Audrey out instead to dance with her while she laughs and holds tightly to his shirt, his suit jacket long since abandoned, draped over the back of his chair.

Richie's phone buzzes with a text from Ben that says, _Hey, Uncle Rich. January Elfrida Hanscom's doing just fine because of you and Eddie and the Losers. Thank everyone for us and come see us in the morning?_

Richie grins down at his phone. He taps out, **I love you more than life itself, send me pictures of my niece before I scream.**

Nora makes a soft sighing sound, gentle and warm through Richie's dress shirt. He cradles her carefully in his cast arm, her curls spilling out around her braid and across his sleeve. She smiles, just a tiny bit, in her sleep, then shifts closer, burrowing into Richie's chest; he kisses her on the forehead, then shuts his eyes, lingering there for a long moment.

**Author's Note:**

> You can (and should!) come chat with me on Twitter at [@nicolelianesolo](https://twitter.com/nicolelianesolo) and/or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/). I'm currently taking commissions there, as well!


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